


Fault Lines

by Safraninflare



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Divine Pulse shenanigans, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Let Felix Hugo Fraldarius Cry 2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 10:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Safraninflare/pseuds/Safraninflare
Summary: Byleth would turn back time again and again to save any of her students.Felix, however, would prefer that she didn't.Or: Byleth gets hurt protecting Felix and Feels happen





	Fault Lines

Everyone was out of breath, coated in mud and sweat and blood. They were halfway through a pack of wolves when some bandits tried to ambush them, which meant that they were surrounded on both sides. It was a rough battle, one where Byleth had to use her divine pulse over and over to the point where her vision was fading at the edges and she knew she would pass out soon. 

“Are you all right?” Felix asked her as he plunged his sword into the chest of one of the bandits, his back pressed against hers. 

“Fine,” Byleth said. The whip-like extension of the Sword of the Creator snapped back into place, and its red glow faded away once more. “Are you—” 

She was cut off by the sound of Felix’s shout, by the sight of him collapsing in a heap by her feet while his assailant yanked his sword out of Felix’s flesh. 

“Felix!” Sylvain shouted from across the battlefield, but before he could even begin to run, Byleth had already rewound time. 

The action made her stomach jump so much that she had to suppress her own nausea, or the whole scene would play back exactly the same way. Felix was back on his feet, he was okay, he was alive—

“Are you all right?” Felix asked, once more.

She didn’t respond, however, instead leaping past him to catch the bandit’s sword against her own. The Sword of the Creator glowed hot in her hands, flaring as the enemy steel caught in the relic’s teeth. She pushed forward, trying to disarm the man, but the glow flickered and faded, just as a wave of nausea wracked her chest. 

The sword fell white and the bandit freed himself, burying his blade into her belly. Byleth swallowed, reaching for the divine pulse in the back of her mind, but it wouldn’t come. She couldn’t just escape this blow, but  _ fuck _ she wasn’t going down here. 

Byleth pulled herself off of the blade and drew her dagger from her hip, using the last bit of her strength to kick her assailant’s legs out from underneath him. She fell over him, her knees holding his arms still, and raised the blade over his throat. Everything was spinning, but she couldn’t lose. Not here, not when there was still a war to be won.

“Move!” Felix growled as he dove forward, knocking her off of the man and into the wet grass. She watched through tunneling vision as he plunged his sword into the bandit’s chest, not satisfied until the light had fully left the man’s eyes.

“That’s the last of them.” Byleth rose to her feet and re-sheathed her dagger, desperate to keep upright even with the gaping wound in her stomach.

“Thank  _ Goddess _ ,” Sylvain said as he yanked his lance free from a wolf’s corpse. “I have a date tonight.” 

“A date with the baths, maybe,” Ingrid laughed while landing her pegasus near where the others convened. “Let’s head back to the monastery.” 

They made it back to Garreg Mach in record time, even though Byleth found herself half a step behind everyone else. They were all laughing and chatting, fully unaware of the carnage that only Byleth had seen. She remembered every one of her friends’ faces as death stilled their eyes, both from that and other battles. It hurt to see any of them like that, but there was one death that kept playing over and over in her head. 

“Maybe I’ll break out some of the sweets I bought in town tonight,” Annette laughed. “I think I deserved them after all that work I put in!” 

Byleth tried to smile, but she felt her legs shake beneath her. Her head was pounding, the wound burned like white hot fire… She doubled over and puked what felt like every organ in her body onto the stone in front of the gate, before falling forward.

A set of gloved hands caught her before she ended up face first in her own bloodied vomit, but she still wouldn’t let herself succumb to the soft lull of darkness. The last time she did that, she slept for five years. There was no way she’d allow herself to make that mistake again, not when there was a war to be won, not when everyone needed her.

“Someone get Mercedes!” a voice, probably Sylvain’s, shouted. 

Byleth pushed up in an attempt to regain her composure, but she ended up finding her back pressed against someone— _ No.  _ Not just someone. Even through the sweat and blood she could smell Felix’s familiar scent; cedar tinged with sword oil.

Through blurred vision, she watched as Mercedes’ cookie-colored form came closer, her voice like a melody over the droning buzz. 

“Professor?” Mercedes asked as she put a hand on Byleth’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine,” Byleth groaned.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Probably.” 

Mercedes looked as if she had something specific to say, but she swallowed it down. Instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Does anything hurt?”

“Yes.” 

“Were you going to tell someone that you were hurt?” Mercedes asked. The conversation felt familiar to Byleth, but Jeralt wasn’t the one asking her.

But, her answer never changed.

Byleth shook her head, but quickly realized that was a bad idea when everything started spinning. “I didn’t want to worry them.”

After all, she was supposed to be their leader, especially while Dimitri was being, well…  _ that way. _ Someone had to stay strong while everyone else fell apart, and even though she had gotten hurt, she knew  _ some _ healing magic. Enough to get her back on her feet before anyone noticed that anything had been wrong in the first place.

“Stop asking fucking questions and help her!” Felix shouted, his voice a feral growl. 

“Fe—”

“Shut the  _ fuck up _ , Sylvain, unless you’re going to help!” 

Byleth could feel Felix’s heart race against her ear, though everything was spinning too much for her to really keep up with what was happening. She felt Mercedes’ warm hands on her stomach and the sunshine-flavored light that emanated from them. 

“Oh, phooey. Sylvain, go tell Flayn to get a bed in the infirmary ready. We’ll be up there in a moment,” Mercedes wiped a film of sweat off her brow, careful to use the part of her arm that  _ wasn’t _ covered in Byleth’s blood, and sighed. “Professor, we need to move you.”

“I brought a vulnerary!” Ashe shouted as he ran towards the crowd. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but…” 

“Thank you, Ashe,” Mercedes smiled. “Professor, I need you to drink this.” 

She uncorked the bottle and brought it to Byleth’s lips. The liquid inside smelled of bitter tonic and feet, and she gagged as it filled her mouth and slid down the back of her throat. Felix still held her from behind, his hands covered in her blood and vomit and  _ Goddess _ how was she ever going to apologize to him for this? 

“Can you hurry up?” 

“Felix, we’ll get her upstairs in a moment—”

“I’m going.” 

Byleth’s head spun as he scooped her up in his arms. She must have been delirious, but she could have sworn that she heard Felix mumble  _ I love you, you idiot _ into her mint-colored hair. There was no time to check, though. The whole world was turning and turning… until it finally faded back to black. 

***

“I’m sure she’ll be okay…” 

The sound of Mercedes’ soft voice rocked the darkness around her, pulling her forward even as her head pounded in protest. She couldn’t open her eyes just yet, no. They felt like they were made out of lead, like everything was so far away. She wasn’t sure how long she had been out, but the thought terrified her. Had another five years slipped through her fingers? Were they still at war? Were her students okay?

Was Felix? 

“She’s been out for three days, Mercedes! I want fucking absolutes!”

Well. That answered most of her questions. Three  _ days _ , not years, and Felix seemed just as abrasive as usual. That confirmation gave her a small surge of energy, one that allowed her to blink her eyes open to see Felix (still in the clothes he was wearing during the battle) opposed to a fresh and clean Mercedes, who looked like she was one hundred percent done with Felix’s brand of bullshit.

“Look, see? She’s awake.” Mercedes pointed towards her. “Oh, Byleth, dear. Stay still…” 

But Byleth didn’t want to stay still. It was so faint, but she was almost certain that she  _ had _ heard Felix say that he loved her before she blacked out. While it was… unlike him to say anything that forward, she couldn’t even say it would have come entirely out of left field. After all, he was the person she spent the most time, when she wasn’t trying to shake some sense into Dimitri. Every spare moment was spent sparring with him, every meal taken with him…

_ Fuck. _ The vision of Felix’s dead body flashed before her eyes, and she nearly threw up again right then and there. Just the idea of him being hurt, the idea of being without him? Maybe he wasn’t the only one, or maybe she was just projecting. Could she really say that she loved him?

Byleth turned her head and caught Felix’s sharp amber eyes, causing her to suck in a quick, sharp,  _ painful  _ breath. 

Yep. She had it, and she had it  _ bad. _ How had she not noticed?

Then again, growing up she was always on the oblivious side. She remembered one time after a skirmish between Jeralt’s crew and some pirates, she lost her footing on some slippery rocks and ended up busting her forehead open from temple to temple. When Jeralt saw, he was so panicked that thought that  _ he  _ would be the one to pass out. However, she hadn’t even noticed until the blood started getting in her eyes. 

_ “Doesn’t that hurt?” he asked. _

_ “I guess.”  _

She guessed then, but she knew now. Staring at Felix made her heart hurt in a way that it never had before. Was this what love was? Sure, she had loved Jeralt, but… This was different.

Byleth exhaled, and time resumed around her. She didn’t even remember pausing it, and yet— 

“Oh,” Felix scoffed, “so you  _ are _ awake.” 

The ice in his voice made her shudder. Maybe she  _ had _ just imagined what he said to her, even though it felt so real. 

“Felix…” 

Byleth turned her head towards Mercedes, her lips curling into a feeble smile. “Do you mind if I talk to him alone?” 

Mercedes put her hands on her hips, as she clearly had  _ opinions _ about what was going on, but she ended up nodding. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

Even as Mercedes left, Felix kept his back turned to Byleth, arms crossed over his chest like a particularly pouty child. She’d seen this from him once before, when Sylvain tried to block a blow from him that almost caused an injury. Could he be mad that she tried to take the kill from him? No, that couldn’t be it. He got the bandit in the end, not her. 

“So, are you going to say anything?” Felix snapped. 

“What would I say?” she paused for a beat, then swallowed. “I’m sorry, Felix.” 

He turned on his heels, amber eyes full of fire and sorrow and pain. “Sorry? That’s fucking it, By?” 

_ By… _ Had he ever called her that before? No…  _ No.  _ It was always  _ Professor _ this, or  _ Professor _ that. Not Byleth, and certainly not  _ By _ . 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Felix.” Byleth sat up from under the covers, even though the movement pulled at the still-healing wound on her belly. “I apologize for vomiting on you.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, though the scowl on his lips remained. “I don’t give a shit if you puke on me.” 

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, which made him dash over to place a hand on her chest. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” Byleth said, “really.”

“You were  _ stabbed. _ Now get back in bed.” There was no room for argument, not with the look in his eyes and the set of his jaw. 

She rolled her eyes at him and laid back down, wincing as she moved. “Fine. So if you’re not pissed that I puked on you, what’s got you fucked up?”

“What’s got me fucked up? Byleth, you nearly fucking  _ died!” _ he snapped, the vein at his temple bulging. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she seethed. “Next time I’ll let you get stabbed.” 

That wasn’t true. She’d never let him get hurt, but if that was what he wanted to hear, then she’d gladly give it to him. It didn’t matter how many times she’d have to stop and rewind time, she’d do it until every bit of her broke if it meant that he’d stay alive.

“You should have. You  _ know _ how I feel about that self-sacrificing  _ bullshit. _ ” 

His words hit her like a sword to the gut—though, maybe that wasn’t the best metaphor to use considering she actually did just take a sword to the gut, but the sentiment was the same. Of course. She remembered the first time he  _ really _ told her about Glenn, one night while they were sparring. He had been so angry at his brother for dying like that, for leaving him alone. How had she not realized it before. 

“Felix—”

“I already watched Glenn die for a cause that wasn’t his own. I wouldn’t be able to  _ bear _ it if you died for me!” He dipped his head down in a vain attempt to keep her from seeing the tears filling his eyes. Even if she couldn’t see his face, the way his back heaved with every sob would have given him away. “Don’t you  _ dare _ die. Not for me, or the boar, or  _ anyone.” _

He made it sound so easy. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t have to die for anyone. Hell, in a perfect world, Edelgard wouldn’t have done what she did and Dimitri wouldn’t spend his days alone in the cathedral growling at anyone who got close. But, it wasn’t a perfect world, and he didn’t have to see what she saw every time they stepped out on that battlefield. 

Felix sat down on the edge of Byleth’s cot, his head still hung low. He placed on hand on her thigh, and the other ran through her hair, pulling her flush against his body. His lips danced across the crown of her head, over her bed-raggeled hair. 

“Please don’t leave,” he cried as he held her tighter. “Please, promise me you won’t die.” 

She wished that she could promise him that, but despite his trauma, his hesitation, she knew that given the opportunity, she would always die in order to save him. But, instead she swallowed and dipped her face into the crook of his neck, drinking in every last ounce of his warmth.

“I promise,” she breathed, voice thick with sleep. “I love you.”

Felix’s entire body froze, his back so stiff that she could probably crack it in half if she tried. She pulled herself off him, her wound screaming in protest. Of course she said the wrong thing. She always was quite good at that, though normally in the opposite way. Too blunt, too brash. This was a whole new realm of offense. 

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t you dare take that back!” Felix turned, his eyes burning again with an emotion that she couldn’t quite place. He shifted in the bed next to her, his face so close to hers that she thought he was either going to bite her, kiss her, or possibly even both. “Fuck, Byleth. I love you too.”

Byleth opened her mouth to respond, but he already sprang forward, crushing his lips against hers in a hearty and desperate kiss. It felt like his entire heart and soul was bared in this kiss, and when her cheeks fell damp, she wasn’t sure if the tears were his or her own. 

“I hadn’t heard anything from you two in a bi—” Mercedes stopped halfway across the room, her eyes locked on Byleth’s as Felix broke their kiss. “I suppose everything worked out, then.” 

And she was right. They had.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Safranin B Flare and the B stands for back on my bullshit and by that I mean i'm writing 3h fanfic instead of working on the vampire novel I should be writing remember to like comment and subscribe and come to my tedtalk and idk pray for my soul.


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